Author: Becky

Hump Day Happy


Moo Cards make me happy. These small-sized business cards reproduce fragments of my paintings on one side and contact/web site information on the other side. Moo did such a good job that I plan on another order featuring my novels. Check out their web site linked above. (No, I’m not getting anything for this endorsement.)

Meanwhile, if you give me a page number between 1 and 611, and another number between 1 and 25, I’ll be glad to find something in this book for you that’s almost as good as Moo Cards.

Oh, wait. Did somebody say “Moo?” Hi, Rhonda!

A Tale of Appliances

Recently I flung myself back into debt like a good American when I bought a new washing machine for The Compound and a refrigerator for Tim’s apartment. I can’t really complain about these big-ticket purchases because over several decades, I received several new appliances as gifts from family members, and those I’ve had to replace put in many years of good and faithful service before they died.

Sometimes I’m questioned about why I don’t have appliances with all the bells and whistles (I see those things as more stuff that can break and honestly, I just want the basics), or why I don’t have a dishwasher (I never met a dishwasher I liked in my years of renting; I don’t have room for one; and unless I’m really tired, I enjoy washing dishes, and anyway, Tim and Tom–and often our guests–are as likely to wash dishes as I am) or a garbage disposal (not enough room under my sink and not a necessity).

However, this go-round of unexpected appliance buying was annoying because I really, really needed a new computer. Even though computers are completely affordable, I’m tired of doing battle with the firewalls and virus protections that constantly need updating for Windows systems. I have two laptops with Windows if I need to use my existing software, so I’d finally convinced myself to splurge on the iMac I really wanted.

Then the appliance crisis happened. I deliberated about this for a bit, then called to mind the old truism about having children. If you wait until you can afford them, you’ll be childless. Rather than be Mac-less, I threw caution to the wind and after picking out a ‘fridge and a washer, I brought home my new 20.5-pound baby and we’ve been getting along famously.

And then…the microwave died.

Let me back up in time to those days when my first husband and I graduated from college, moved into our tiny house, and were gifted with a brand new washer, dryer, stove, and refrigerator from my parents, his mother, and his two grandmothers. Then one night his stepfather said we ought to have one of those newfangled microwaves. Though I really had no use for a microwave, being a very traditional kind of cook, and saw it mainly as something that would take up space in an already too-small kitchen, in came the microwave.

Every time we turned that thing on, we blew a fuse in our old house. So then came the electrician. Before I could figure out any real use for the stupid thing, scandal rocked our small town. Apparently there was a big employee-theft ring at the local manufacturer of appliances–mainly those newfangled microwaves. Sheriffs were getting tips, knocking on doors, confiscating microwaves, and arresting people. Microwaves were being dumped in ravines, ditches, and creeks before they could become evidence. I called my father-in-law and said, “That microwave wasn’t by chance a little gift to you from an employee of [name redacted], was it? DID YOU GIVE ME A HOT MICROWAVE?”

The microwave was removed from my house in the dead of night amidst much jollity on the part of family members at my paranoia and righteous indignation. I maintained a grudge against microwaves from then on and wouldn’t have one in my house following my divorce and even after Tom and I got married, by which time microwaves were standard in most kitchens.

Then my mother lived with us for a while, and when she moved, she left her microwave behind. Over time, I offered it a somewhat grudging acceptance. It was good for a quick bag of popcorn and to melt butter for my baking. When Tim moved here, he saw it and said, “Where’d your mother GET that thing? From Dolly Madison?” From then on, I thought of it as the First Microwave and liked to imagine a conversation between our country’s fourth First Lady and my mother.

Dolly Madison: Dorothy, the British are coming, and I’ve only got room in my wagon for the White House silver and George Washington’s portrait. Why don’t you take this nice microwave?

Mother: Won’t you need it here in the White House after the War of 1812 ends?

Dolly Madison: Actually, we haven’t been able to use it ever since Ben died and could no longer stand on the White House roof with a kite and a key.

Mother: But most of us won’t have electricity until the 1930s. What will I do with it until then?

Dolly Madison: It makes a handy place to store your bread and BBQ-Fritos.

That dumb microwave outlived my mother, but now it’s gone. I’m not in a hurry to replace it; probably the saddest commentary on how little we use it came when Tom said, “Just make sure you replace it with one big enough for the coffeemaker and toaster to sit on top.”

RIP, microwave of Dolly Madison and Dorothy Cochrane.

LJ Runway Monday: Takin’ It to the Street (PR 7:9)


On the most recent episode of Lifetime’s Project Runway, the designers were put into teams of two to visit distinct areas of Manhattan to get inspiration for two designs: a look for day and a look for night. The areas they could select from were Chinatown, East Village, Upper East Side, and Harlem.

Rather than follow them through Manhattan, I decided to pick from one of the areas I’ve been in that weren’t included in PR‘s selections. There are several, but settle back and I’ll tell you a story.

My first visit to Manhattan was in February of 1998. The weather was unseasonably mild–lucky me!–and during my first day and night in the city, I was accompanied by my friend James, who used to live in NYC. That made him a great tour guide and person to teach me how to do those things I’d never done before–like hail a cab, figure out the subway, who and how much to tip, etc. Timmy and Tim were both still living in the city, and between the three of them and Tim’s then-boyfriend, I enjoyed exploring Hell’s Kitchen, SoHo, Washington Square Park, Central Park, Columbus Circle, Fifth and Madison Avenues, Chelsea, the Lincoln Center, Times Square, Herald Square, Union Square, Macy’s, the Empire State Building, and all kinds of shops, restaurants, and galleries.

It was AMAZING, better than I’d ever anticipated. And it was exhausting! On the next-to-last day of my visit, I was on my own for the full day. Tim and Mr. Man had gone out of town, James was with his sister, and Timmy planned to come to my hotel that evening so we could go to dinner.

I woke up that morning and realized that I’d lost the camera that had most of my photos on it. After moping about that for a while, I was determined to take my other camera out and create my own adventure. When I’d been on top of the Empire State Building late one night with Tim and Mr. Man, they’d turned me in a circle and pointed out recognizable landmarks in each area of the city. Of course, there was nothing like looking downtown and seeing those majestic Twin Towers, and the little light in the harbor that was the Statue of Liberty. Since I hadn’t seen Lower Manhattan by daylight, and I had a huge crush on Battery Park thanks to the movies (including Desperately Seeking Susan), that’s where I decided to go.

I had to negotiate the subway all by myself, and I screwed up. But I also corrected my mistake, which gave me confidence. When I was standing in the sunlight again, there were so many things to look at that…I forgot to take more than a few photos. My senses were drunk on: the ferries on the river, the birds on the posts, Liberty in the distance (could NOT stop thinking of young Vito in Godfather II), the park, the towering skyscrapers of the Financial District, the grandness of the World Trade Center, the hotdog vendors, the old men playing checkers, the Rollerbladers and skateboarders, the families with children, the couples sitting close on benches, THOSE benches, that I’d seen so many times in movies. The people truly lived up to the concept of NYC as a melting pot–they were diverse in race, gender, age, language, attire, income–I stayed there for hours watching them, eating one of those hotdogs, and writing down my thoughts and impressions (some of which would later become poems).

Twelve years later, I still remember that as one of the best days of my life–and I’ve had way more good days than bad, so that’s a tribute to the architecture, people, beauty, and vibe of New York. To capture that in fashion, I wanted to share a few photos–not mine–that helped inspire this week’s designs.


Sidewalk drawing in Battery Park © Kimber.


Flowers in Battery Park © lifeandyarn.


Night view of the Financial District © travistips.

When I envisioned my daytime look, I thought of a young woman grabbing her sketchbook on a spring morning and going to Battery Park. A light drizzle or mist off the Hudson wouldn’t daunt her. She’d just put on rainboots and other proper attire, load up her backpack with her art supplies and a bottle of water, and be out the door. I thought Summer was the ideal model for this daytime look. However, security photos show her being blindfolded and dollnapped in the dead of night by mysterious, unnamed ninjas with intact ankle ligaments.

Please click here to see who’s modeling the look instead.

Today I bought myself a little peace of mind

Yesterday I was outside with all four dogs, watering the grass and doing poop patrol (the glamor!), when a truck stopped outside The Compound. A woman got out and handed me a flyer. The day before, her dog Fang had slipped her collar and run after the woman picked her up from Happy Tails. I know Happy Tails well–the owner is a wonderful animal advocate and a major supporter of Scout’s Honor, and many Scout’s Honor dogs board there on their way to foster homes. Happy Tails is on a busy road, and as the woman told me that Fang, a German Shepherd mix, is sweet but skittish, I understood what a nightmare she’d been living for the previous twenty-four hours.

One of the reasons Fang’s mom stopped and gave me a flyer is because Fang is drawn to other dogs, and the Compound Four are generally an enthusiastically noisy bunch when they’re outside, so Fang might want to meet them.

As of right now, Fang is on the petamberalert.com site and the findtoto.org site. Hopefully someone will find her and connect with her family. It broke my heart to see this woman’s face as she was enduring one of my worst fears–Margot or Guinness somehow lost and loose on the streets. One advantage Fang has is that she’s chipped. If she’s taken to a vet or shelter, she can be scanned and reunited with her family.

Margot and Guinness were never chipped. I’ve talked about it occasionally, but never followed through. As of today, that has been corrected. If the worst were to happen, and either of them got separated from us, I’d never forgive myself for not doing everything possible to be reunited with them.

Coincidentally, all of this happened about the same time an online friend wrote me about an experience he just had with a cat. He saw someone put the cat out in a public place as he was driving by. He circled back, found the cat, and surrendered her to a shelter. He wondered if he’d done the right thing–his hope is that she’ll be adopted, as he’s not in a situation to care for her himself.

I want to say again what I said to him. He ABSOLUTELY did the right thing. No one has to keep an animal he or she rescues if they don’t have the right home, and surrendering an animal is that animal’s best chance of finding the right home. Even if that ultimately doesn’t happen, and the animal is euthanized, there are worse things, such as: an animal who hasn’t been spayed or neutered creating more homeless animals; an animal catching and spreading parasites and diseases, including rabies, to other animals or humans; an animal becoming feral and aggressive and attacking another animal or human; an animal killed by a vehicle–or damage to people and property caused by an effort to avoid hitting a stray animal with a vehicle; cruelty to an animal by individuals who have no respect or value for the lives and well-being of strays; attack on the homeless animal by other animals (wild dogs, raccoons, coyotes, to name a few).

Thank goodness for this person (who doesn’t want attention, so I’m not naming him). I hope someone as good and conscientious as he is finds Fang and helps her get home. And should my girls ever be lost, I hope someone like him finds them, too.

Hump Day Happy


Happy St. Patrick’s Day to you! As you can see, my brand new bit o BuNnYz BuNnY MoNsTeR from StarMonkey’s Etsy Shop is making his debut on my LJ with a shamrock lei. His name is John Riley, and if you give him a page number between 1 and 611, and another number between 1 and 25, he’ll be glad to find something for you to be happy about from one of these books.

Hope no one pinches you today–unless you like that sort of thing. 😉

Congrats!

I did it on Facebook, but should probably offer here on LiveJournal, too, a hearty congratulations to all the Lambda Literary Awards finalists. There is precious little recognition for most writers, niche writers in particular, and definitely for GLBT writers or GLBT-themed books. No matter who wins,* getting a story, novel, or book to completion and published is an accomplishment of which you can be proud.

Anyone interested can find the full list of finalists on the Lambda site.

*Even if they steal the award, FARB.

Still working on that organization thing

He’s gay; I’m straight. He’s dead; I’m alive.

Sound like the beginning of another vampire book?


Not really. After being on a break, I’m ready to resume my relationship with Marcel Proust. To that end, I’ve finally finished Swann’s Way in Volume I of Remembrance of Things Past, and I’m moving on to Within a Budding Grove.

I suspect the reason I kept putting this off is because I thought so much time had passed since I started reading Proust that I’d need to go back to the beginning. The whole thing seemed daunting.

Then Linda published a meme/list called “101 in 1001.” These are 101 things she plans to do in 1001 days–that’s about what, 2.75 years? At first I thought it was 101 things in a year, and I was all, Good grief; how’s she going to do all that? The timeline finally penetrated my numb-to-numbers brain, and I thought such a list might help me with one of my biggest challenges: time management. I can manage my time, but there are always so many things to do that I get distracted. Maybe a bigger-picture list will help me refocus after daily distractions and duties.

Possibly first up is to actually complete the list of 101 things. I’m not sure what number I’m up to, but maybe I’ll publish it when I reach the magic number. And then I’ll start ticking things off, because I’ve already been working on some of them (even before I decided to create a list). There’s the added benefit that as things get done–those things that can be done–I’ll feel some sense of accomplishment or completion. Anyway, it’s all worth a try, and since Proust fell from the shelf onto the list (not literally), I started reading him again, and I’m enjoying the reading and the sense of making progress on this first of three volumes.

Many years ago, I bought a sewing machine cabinet (sans machine) that was the ideal stand for our TV, because it took up little space and hid the VCR, DVD player, tapes, DVDs, whatever. Then, when I got the larger TV for Tom a couple of years ago on our anniversary, I moved that sewing cabinet into my office, where it became a home for my printer and whatever I could cram inside it.

I recently found exactly the filing cabinet I wanted to take its place, so the sewing cabinet became–a sewing cabinet! Something I never thought I’d need. But when I was working on my most recent PR design, it was heavenly to do it in one area with all my supplies at hand and room to cut, and fit, and sew. Organizing that room is still in progress (and is also on my list!), but I’m getting there.

That’s my old PC and my Kodak digital on the work table. The Nikon is generally wherever I am, and the new PC is in my office, which is also an area in transition (so no photos yet). I’m hoping that setting up different and specific work spaces for my sewing, painting, and writing/editing will also help me stay focused. Right now, it’s a happy theory!

One thing that probably won’t change: no matter what room I’m in, I’ll never rush to deal with those pesky phones. I’d have to believe phone aversion is a flaw before I could change it. Not likely.